The Lonely End of a Good Man
Men,
It’s Christmas again.
Another year you buy happiness you’re not invited to feel.
You pay for the trips you don’t enjoy.
You fund smiles that never turn back to you.
You hold everything up while quietly falling apart.
You’re not loved. You’re useful.
You’re not missed. You’re expected.
Your value is measured by receipts, not by your presence.
You sit at the table but no one asks if you’re okay.
You’re in the photos but never in the memories.
If you stopped paying, everything would stop.
If you stopped breathing, life would simply reorganize.
You tell yourself “this is what a man does.”
So you swallow the loneliness.
You numb the resentment.
You keep showing up for people who stopped seeing you years ago.
And one day it hits you.
Not with drama.
Not with a fight.
Just a cold, quiet realization:
You gave everyone a life.
You lost your own.
That’s how good men disappear.
Not because they were weak.
But because they were needed more than they were loved.
Merry Christmas.
The lonely end of a good man.
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@amadoh_MHM@A_S_Nassir@MombasaCountyKe Likoni ferry crossing point is an eye sore. What are you doing to change the image of that place both sides of the ferry.
Relocate the hawkers and the matatu terminal station. Do cabro on the side walks. Put lights on the streets.